


I'll Love You [Forever]

by thesockmonster



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Baekhyun - Freeform, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-30 04:58:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11456475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesockmonster/pseuds/thesockmonster
Summary: Jongin and Yifan aren't dating, but they still sleep together.  It only gets a little more complicated when Jongin finds out he's pregnant.





	I'll Love You [Forever]

Jongin stares blankly at the blinking lights on the phone, tuning out the obnoxious ringing. The voicemail will kick in soon and he’ll be able to go back to eating in peace. It’s his lunch break, and the last time he dared answer a customer call during lunch, he hadn’t been able to eat at all. So he guiltlessly lets all calls during his half an hour lunch break go to voicemail, returning the calls later - after he’s caught up on everything else.

There is still a stack of folders in front of him, phone calls he needs to make and appointments he needs to schedule. It’s a monotonous job, and usually a thankless one too, but Jongin doesn’t mind so much. It’s set hours and a steady paycheck, and sometimes he even lucks out with free stuff.

Jongin works in a small family run business that does repairs on high end appliances. He deals with people who are used to getting their way exactly when they want it, and while exhausting, Jongin has learned not to take it personally. And occasionally, when a warranty kicks in to replace an entire appliance instead of the parts, the repair guys will fix it anyway and give it to one of the employees. Jongin already has a refrigerator and a stove that each cost more than he makes in several months.

He really can’t complain. Besides, his bosses are kind of awesome, often bringing Jongin food from wherever they go if they get a chance to make it back to the office for lunch. The only thing he could possibly ask for is a chair with better padding. He’s started leaving the day with an aching butt, walking a little funny for a few hours after.

It’s the same today. Jongin hobbles his way up three flights of stairs and to his apartment, keys jingling in his fingers and falling to the floor once before he manages to unlock the door. He’s frowning when he steps inside, keys tossed on the counter and his shoes coming off carelessly. 

Jongin sees his roommate’s shoes in a similar messy state and he takes a moment to nudge the tip of Yifan’s sneaker, pushing it back a little. He instantly feels his sour mood evaporating. Yifan is one of a very select group of people Jongin can be himself around. There are no barriers between them, no awkward moments or silences. It’s complete comfort. Jongin’s fortunate to have him as a roommate, to have him as a friend.

Yifan is sitting on the couch in the living room, hunched over and peering down at a magazine open on the coffee table. He’s wearing his thin-framed gold glasses - the ones that are for appearances only, but they look great on him. His blond hair is pulled back in a haphazard ponytail with the shorter strands falling out. Jongin smiles fondly at him.

They don’t greet each other. They don’t have to. Yifan just sits up enough to settle his arm around Jongin’s shoulders and pull him to his side when Jongin plops beside him on the couch. His fingers wander over the skin of Jongin’s neck, then up into his hair, scratching softly along his scalp. If Jongin was a cat, he’d be purring already.

“How’s your ass?” Yifan asks minutes later.

Jongin had been on the verge of falling asleep, and he hums in response. “Achy,” he answers, the pout evident in his voice.

Yifan turns to him and Jongin peers up at him. “Want me to massage it better?” Yifan does this thing with his eyebrows and there’s a not so innocent grin on his handsome face.

Jongin cracks a smile, shaking his head and letting out a sigh. “You just want to touch my butt.”

“Can you blame me?” Yifan replies, his hand already sliding out of Jongin’s hair and down his back toward his butt.

“I’m sure I could if I tried,” Jongin tells him, but he also wiggles closer to Yifan, doing nothing to stop his wandering hand.

“You should probably shower first,” Yifan says, tapping Jongin’s butt to urge him off the couch.

And as lazy as Jongin feels, Yifan is right. A shower always helps him unwind, and washes away the faint scent of grease that sometimes clings to him. Unboxing parts to inventory and put away have that effect.

Jongin slogs his way to the shower, peeling off his clothes and standing under the spray long enough to relax his muscles. He lazily washes his hair, scrubs himself down and finally steps out to a steam filled room and a fluffy towel - just out of the dryer because Yifan is _amazing_. Jongin buries his face in the towel, hiding a smile as he dries himself.

He’s really feeling much better, aside from his aching behind, when he shuffles out of the bathroom, skin prickling as he’s assaulted with cooler air. Yifan is lazing across Jongin’s bed, waiting, and he sits up when Jongin nears. Jongin crawls onto the bed, his towel falling to the floor. Yifan clucks his tongue and stands, picking up the towel in time to shove it under Jongin’s head when Jongin lays down.

Yifan doesn’t start with Jongin’s butt; he’s too much of a tease for that. His broad palms land on Jongin’s shoulders, thumbs pushing into his skin almost painfully, but it’s a good pain. Jongin’s toes curl as Yifan moves down, pressing and massaging Jongin’s problem spots along the way.

Jongin could fall asleep if he wasn’t so acutely aware of Yifan’s every move. He feels the brush of Yifan’s shorts on his thighs, his body heat bleeding through the fabric. Yifan works slowly, efficiently. Jongin’s skin is tingling, buzzing, and when Yifan finally _finally_ makes it to the curve of Jongin’s butt, Jongin’s hard.

He keeps still as Yifan’s hands settle on his cheeks, warm and light. Jongin holds his breath, eyes squeezed shut as he waits. Anticipates. A low groan rushes from his throat when Yifan’s fingers press into his skin all at once, now moving in small circles. His thumbs are the worst, the closest to the middle, and Jongin would feel exposed if he wasn’t used to this, wasn’t used to the attention Yifan loves to lavish on his backside.

This is hardly the first time this has happened.

Jongin and Yifan have been roommates for four years now, and for the last two of them, they’ve also been sleeping together. It was a mutual agreement, set forth one lonely weekend when they both confessed the only thing they disliked about being single was the lack of sex. Neither of them wanted to work for it, and going out to impress someone long enough to get laid was far too much effort.

A deal was struck. On top of their friendship and roommate relationship, now they get each other off with no pesky strings attached. It’s perfect.

Jongin lets out a low whine, hips arching up off the bed when Yifan slicks his fingers and teases around his rim. He wouldn’t change a thing, even if Yifan is still being an insufferable tease, holding Jongin’s hole open with his thumb while trailing kisses down Jongin’s spine.

Jongin wiggles back, appreciative of the deep moan that rumbles against his skin. Yifan makes some of the best noises during sex. Jongin is maybe a tiny bit addicted to them. He rocks on Yifan’s thumb, holding back a whimper when Yifan’s other hand runs up his side, fingers passing over Jongin’s nipple.

Having an experienced partner who knows just what Jongin likes is amazing. Jongin doesn’t have to think, doesn’t have to say anything because Yifan knows exactly what he wants. Yifan’s long fingers slide wet into Jongin and he gasps, jerks back on them with a low whimper.

Yifan works Jongin open quicker, his impatience catching up with him. He always starts slow, but he can never _stay_ slow. Jongin likes it; Jongin likes knowing he can rile Yifan up enough for his control to slip.

Jongin brings his knees up so he can raise his ass into the air as soon as Yifan moves back, easing his fingers out of him. He braces his weight on his forearms, forehead pressed to the comforter and legs spread wide, waiting. Yifan fits himself between Jongin’s thighs and Jongin clenches his fists in anticipation, his eagerness palpable.

He breathes out a sigh when the crown of Yifan’s cock presses to his rim. Yifan pushes only enough to add pressure, and Jongin’s mouth falls open, his hips rocking back for more. Yifan moans, his cock slipping into Jongin just a little. Jongin tries to keep from going too fast, but at this point, he’s painfully aroused and he wants so much to come around Yifan’s cock.

Yifan’s cock is long, just like the rest of him. He slowly fills Jongin all the way, until Jongin feels like he’s going to burst. He loves it. He loves clenching around Yifan’s dick and listening to the way Yifan sucks in air through his teeth, trying not to move because Jongin always needs a little time to adjust.

“Fuck me,” Jongin finally moans.

And Yifan does.

The slide out feels like it takes forever, but Yifan thrusts back in fast and hard, jolting Jongin a little up the mattress. Jongin hiccups out a moan, reaching up to rest his palm on his headboard to keep himself still. Yifan curves over him, his mouth wandering over Jongin’s shoulders and neck as he fucks into Jongin hard and fast. Yifan’s hips are bony and they smack against Jongin’s ass, but not enough to hurt.

Jongin pulls in deep breaths, letting them out with soft moans muffled in the comforter. He bends his back a little further toward the bed and his knees slide further apart. It shifts Yifan’s cock and the intensity of it has Jongin tensing, his cock throbbing with the need to come.

Yifan knows. It’s only a minute later when his hand reaches around, long fingers wrapping around Jongin’s cock. Jongin loves how big Yifan’s hand is, how his cock disappears into it entirely. Yifan doesn’t have to jerk him off for Jongin to come, but he does anyway. Jongin watches, heat burning pathways through his veins. He can’t take his eyes off the way his cock slides completely into Yifan’s fist before the head pokes out, only to vanish again.

“Want me to pull out?” Yifan asks.

Jongin shakes his head. “You better not,” he tells Yifan. He can deal with the mess today as long as it keeps Yifan inside him just a little longer.

Yifan groans, his thrusts shorter, but deeper as Jongin pushes back into them greedily. He wants to come; he wants to come and he wants to feel Yifan come with him.

Yifan squeezes around the crown of Jongin’s cock and it sends a jolt all the way through his sensitive body. He moans, his body tensing. He’s almost there. The heat burns, his throat is dry, and Jongin’s moan of Yifan’s name gets caught in his throat when he finally comes.

“Fuck, Jongin,” Yifan hisses, pushing through the resistance to keep thrusting until it’s too much.

Jongin is still coming, still trembling when Yifan goes pushes in as far as he can and stops, cock throbbing inside him. Yifan grinds against Jongin’s ass and Jongin fucking loves it. He loves the feel of Yifan over him, in him, falling apart because of him.

So maybe the no strings attached thing has become a bit hazy. Jongin screws his eyes shut, his brain guiltily reminding him that his feelings for Yifan are so far over the friend line they’ve started writing out wedding vows. It wasn’t supposed to happen, but when Yifan is so good to him, gently sliding out of Jongin’s spent body and helping turn him onto his back so he doesn’t fall in the wet spot, Jongin can’t help it.

It’s not just during sex either. Yifan is always going that little extra step for Jongin in all aspects of his life. Jongin watches, helpless to the strings tied tight to his limbs that now attach to Yifan, as Yifan takes Jongin’s damp towel and uses it to wipe carefully along his rim, resting it under him after to catch the come as it dribbles out.

Yifan grabs Jongin’s big toe and wiggles it, a gummy smile on his face. He’s still red, still sweaty, and his ponytail has fallen out, giving him the craziest hair, and Jongin wants to write sonnets about his everything. “I pulled out chicken for dinner when you’re ready,” Yifan says.

Jongin watches as Yifan grabs his clothes before walking out, gloriously naked. He pops his head back in a moment later. “Oh, Chanyeol texted earlier to see if he can come over tomorrow night.”

“S’fine,” Jongin rumbles, wiping hair from his face. It’ll be Friday, and Chanyeol usually brings snack food and other people with him. Maybe he’ll see if Sehun can come too. Jongin could use some best friend support - from someone he isn’t in love with.

 

Jongin is half sprawled on the couch when the doorbell rings. He’s wearing one of Yifan’s shirts over his cotton pants, a book on his lap when Yifan opens the door, allowing Chanyeol to barge right in. There are plastic bags hanging from his fingers, and he pushes them at Yifan who takes them and heads toward the kitchen.

Chanyeol flops on the other end of the couch and leans toward Jongin. “I’m not disturbing date night, am I?” he asks with a wink.

Jongin’s face does this thing where he can feel it all scrunched up. That happens a lot around Chanyeol. “Do I _look_ like I’m going on a date?” he asks, gesturing to his clothing.

Chanyeol shrugs. “You and Yifan do the domestic dating shit,” he comments. “I just don’t want to be stuck in the middle when you two start humping each other.”

Yifan walks back in the room just in time to smack Chanyeol upside the back of the head. “We’re not dating, asshat.”

“Whatever you say,” Chanyeol drawls, kicking his feet onto the coffee table.

Yifan hits him on the head again. “If you’re going to put your feet up, take your damn shoes off first.”

Jongin merely sighs, turning to give Yifan space to sit between him and Chanyeol. He refuses to let his mood diminish, especially when he’s used to it. All of their friends seem to think Yifan and Jongin are secretly dating, as if Jongin and Yifan would keep such information classified. It’s turned into a running joke, although Jongin stopped finding it humorous the moment he realized how head over heels for Yifan he really was.

Now it’s like nails on a chalkboard, and he has to keep from wincing when the subject is brought up. Thankfully, he’s rescued, partially, by the arrival of both Kyungsoo and Baekhyun. Sehun was going on a date tonight, so Jongin didn’t bother asking him to come over, but Kyungsoo has always been a level-headed man and Jongin is quite fond of him. He’ll do nicely as a buffer.

Baekhyun on the other hand . . . 

“My favorite nutty buddies!” Baekhyun announces, his arms out wide before Kyungsoo is tugging him away by the back of his shirt, fingers hooked in his collar.

“What did I tell you about acting like a decent human for a change?” Kyungsoo grumbles, hauling Baekhyun over to the run down recliner away from the couch.

“That I should give it a shot some time?” Baekhyun answers, helpless as Kyungsoo pushes him into the chair. It creaks under his weight, but holds.

“And right now would be?”

“Some time,” Baekhyun sighs with a pout.

“I need a drink,” Yifan says, his weight lifting from the couch. “You?” he asks, turning to look at Jongin.

“I’m good,” Jongin answers, giving Yifan a tight smile. His traitorous heart gives a lurch when Yifan gifts him a gummy grin in response, stepping over Chanyeol’s legs on his way to the kitchen.

“I think you have something on your face,” Chanyeol comments coolly.

“What?” Jongin runs a hand over his face as Baekhyun starts laughing.

“Your dumb attraction,” Baekhyun squeaks, his words trailing off into a pained gasp because Kyungsoo now has Baekhyun in a headlock.

Jongin can feel himself turning red and he curls his lip at Chanyeol just as Yifan walks back in the room. He peers between the two of them curiously. “What did I miss?”

“Chanyeol being an ass,” Jongin tells him, raising his voice to drown out Baekhyun’s gurgles. He really isn’t in the mood for this, but when Yifan sits, he rests a hand on Jongin’s thigh and it curbs Jongin’s impulse to either hide in his room for the rest of the night or hurl his book at Chanyeol’s face.

The teasing tones down when Yifan is around. Jongin thinks Yifan is this force of nature with a natural bullshit buffer that keeps people from opening their mouths. And he’s thankful for it. Baekhyun stops trying to stick his foot in his mouth and Chanyeol’s interest turns to the show Yifan pulls up on Netflix, giving his two cents about whether it would be worth watching based on the summary or not.

He’s vetoed.

“It’s Voltron, you dingbat,” Kyungsoo says. “You fucking watch Voltron and you fucking love it.”

Jongin’s already seen it, so he leans his weight against Yifan’s side, burrowing a bit further when Yifan drapes his arm over Jongin’s shoulder. He feels Kyungsoo’s stare, but doesn’t look over at him. Jongin chooses to tune him out, paying attention to the show. 

They go four episodes before Baekhyun can’t sit still anymore, which means he climbs onto Chanyeol’s lap, making kissy faces at him as Chanyeol tries to hold him down. It’s standard Baekhyun behavior. He’s far more open about his desires than Jongin, which is a quality Jongin admires. Not that he’ll ever admit it. Baekhyun is honesty goals while Jongin has buried his will to speak the truth so far down it’s taken root and won’t let go.

They make it until just after ten before everyone is piling out the door. Chanyeol half hauls Baekhyun out as Kyungsoo brings up the rear, rolling his eyes fondly at the pair. Honestly, when Jongin’s friend circle expanded during college, he hadn’t expected Kyungsoo to stick around. Kyungsoo was always reserved, but with the addition of the others - especially Baekhyun - he’s grown more outgoing, extending out of his shell. Now if only Jongin could do the same.

Jongin taps his fingers on Yifan’s thigh when their apartment falls silent. Yifan yawns, stretches, and knocks against Jongin’s side lightly. “Bed?” he offers.

“Can I invade yours?” Jongin asks quietly. “You’re warm and my bed is cold.”

“My bed is cold too,” Yifan chuckles, “but you’re always welcome to leech my body heat.”

Jongin can’t help smiling as he lets Yifan pull him from the couch and onto his feet. He lazily rubs over his face, crowding into the small bathroom with Yifan to brush his teeth. There’s stubble on his chin and around his mouth. Jongin wrinkles his nose at it, too lazy to do anything about it. He’ll shave tomorrow night.

Jongin shuffles his way from the bathroom and across the hall to Yifan’s bedroom. He doesn’t bother with the light; he knows his way to Yifan’s bed by heart. Jongin decides to curl up under the comforter even though he knows it’s going to be a while before Yifan is finished with his skin care routine.

Jongin is on his way to falling asleep when he hears the creak of the door as Yifan pushes it closed. He doesn’t move until he feels Yifan’s weight beside him. Jongin rolls over, too tired and too clingy to second guess himself when he drapes an arm around Yifan’s waist and nudges his head beneath Yifan’s chin.

Yifan lets him, lets Jongin get comfortable before wrapping an arm around him. His hand rests on Jongin’s lower back, sliding under his shirt. The touch alone sends little sparks dancing over Jongin’s skin and he hums, shifting closer. He hooks his ankle over Yifan’s, pushing Yifan’s pants up a little.

“Thought you were tired,” Yifan mumbles. But he doesn’t seem to mind Jongin clinging to him; Yifan even pulls Jongin as close as he can, his hand moving down Jongin’s back, fingers teasing along the elastic of Jongin’s boxers.

“I can be two things at once,” Jongin answers.

Yifan laughs, fond and deep.

Jongin leans his head away just enough to get to Yifan’s mouth. He tastes like cinnamon toothpaste, smells like lavender from one of his face creams. Jongin pushes for more and Yifan gives it. Everything is warm, muted with a hazy atmosphere of desire.

Jongin falls into it, the embers of a flame bubbling in his stomach as Yifan pushes him onto his back, settling himself between Jongin’s legs. They rock together, and the arousal sings in Jongin’s veins, plays out an orchestra along his ribs as Yifan touches him, kisses him, undresses him with careful hands.

Jongin feels like he’s melting from the inside as Yifan teases him, strokes over Jongin’s heated skin just enough to have him aching for more. Jongin can’t do more than hold on, legs falling open further as Yifan’s long fingers work him open slowly, almost lazily. Jongin doesn’t need much, groaning softly when Yifan pulls away.

The moment Yifan is in reach, Jongin is wrapping his legs around him, a breath caught in his throat as Yifan presses into him, slick and hot and so so _good_. Jongin tells him as much, whispering in Yifan’s ear as he tangles his fingers in Yifan’s hair, holding tight to him to keep him from moving away.

Yifan doesn’t go fast. He takes his time, his mouth hot on Jongin’s neck and jaw. Jongin loves it. Jongin loves _him_ and one day that’s going to get him into trouble. But it’s not tonight. Jongin is going to indulge in this, soak up the attention Yifan gifts him with greed.

In the dark, Yifan can’t see the way Jongin stares up at him, can’t see the way Jongin mouths dangerous words right before he comes. Jongin pushes his face to Yifan’s neck, his cock rubbing over Yifan’s stomach messily and his thighs trembling from the force of it. Yifan is careful with him, even when Jongin knows he must be close.

Yifan pulls out, but Jongin keeps him in place. He reaches between them, fingers wrapping around Yifan’s slick cock to tug and stroke him until warm come splashes onto Jongin’s softening cock and stomach. Yifan sucks on Jongin’s shoulder, shaking through it until he’s spent.

Yifan doesn’t move, and Jongin doesn’t nudge him. He’s content with the way Yifan is curved over him, content in the heat between them even if he’s sweaty and sticky. Jongin’s heart won’t stop pounding and he knows he needs to get his emotions under control. He _knows_ , but when it’s so easy to love Yifan, how is he supposed to stop?

 

Sehun sits across from Jongin, an unimpressed look on his face, but that tends to be Sehun’s default expression. He can’t help it. Jongin has long gotten used to it, but apparently Sehun’s date had taken it as a sign that Sehun wasn’t interested.

“I was totally into him,” Sehun sighs, repetitively hitting the end of his straw against the table, the wrapper sliding down a little more until the top breaks through. Sehun tucks the top of the straw into his mouth and blows the wrapper the rest of the way off. “I can’t help the way my mouth defaults.”

“I think it’s one of your best features,” Jongin comments, swiping his finger along the condensation of his glass.

“You’re fucking right it is,” Sehun responds, nose wrinkling just slightly as he glances over his shoulder.

They’re waiting for Kyungsoo to join them for lunch. It’s Monday and Jongin, thankfully, only had a half day, so Sehun, naturally, begged him for a late lunch and somehow roped Kyungsoo into it too. Sehun drums his fingers on the table, looking far more impatient than he really is. Jongin snorts out a soft laugh.

“Well, I’m done with dating sites,” Sehun declares with a sigh. “Three strikes and I’m out.”

“Are we discussing the day Sehun came out?” Kyungsoo pipes in, having crept to their table unseen. He takes his seat between them, looking pleased they already ordered his drink for him. “As I remember, no one was surprised and Lu Han lamented ordering a box of tiaras that went unused.”

“He wore one a week for the rest of the semester and sold them for a profit to his fan club,” Sehun adds. “I think he came out on top there.”

Jongin chokes down a laugh, taking a sip of his drink.

“Oh come on,” Sehun says with a roll of his eyes. “Grow up.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Kyungsoo teases.

Jongin is still grinning when their waitress arrives to take their orders. As soon as she departs, Kyungsoo rounds on him. “So you looked cozy the other night,” he comments right off the bat.

Jongin tilts his head in confusion, only to understand a moment later. His heart immediately jumps into his throat.

“Oh, you mean Friday?” Sehun cuts in. “Was it something to do with Jongin’s not-boyfriend?”

Jongin narrows his eyes. “You two are ganging up on me.”

“I’m trying to understand what I saw,” Kyungsoo replies. “You have been very vocal about not dating Yifan, but you two were totally acting like a couple.”

“Oh, was Jongin doing his clingy thing?” Sehun asks.

“Where he melts against Yifan’s side and gets this stupid dreamy glaze over his eyes?”

“Yes, that!”

“This is an attack,” Jongin declares. He moves to stand, but Kyungsoo knocks his knee out with his foot and Jongin falls back in his seat.

“It’s an intervention,” Sehun clarifies.

“I know what you look like when you’re into someone,” Kyungsoo says.

“So either you two really are secretly dating, or you’re in way over your head,” Sehun states.

“We’re not dating,” Jongin parrots for what feels like the hundredth time. “And we aren’t _going_ to date. We’re friends. And roommates. Ruining that with feelings and what would probably end in heartbreak isn’t worth it.” The lie just slips off his tongue so easily that he feels guilty for it instantly.

“Tell me,” Sehun begins, propping his chin on his hands, “how many times a week do you two fuck?”

“Classy,” Kyungsoo snorts.

“I’m serious. Cut the shit, Jongin. We see through whatever flimsy curtain you’re trying to pull over our eyes.”

Kyungsoo regards Jongin with a knowing look. “He’s right.”

“What do you want me to say?” Jongin starts. “That I fucking love him and I’m _terrified_ he’ll never feel the same? It’s like some awful fucking movie, and I will _not_ star in some B-rated flick with an overused friends to lovers plot.”

“I’d say it’s C-rated at best,” comes Sehun’s sardonic reply.

Jongin wipes the pads of his fingers along his glass and flicks the water droplets at his friend. “Ass.”

“Hey, I’m a picky viewer. I’d flip past your shitty movie if it was playing on tv.”

“You remember that business card I wrote for you in third grade declaring you my best friend for life? I want it back.”

“You’ll have to dig through my toy drawer to find it,” Sehun says, a smirk pulling at his lips.

Jongin shudders. “Keep it. But just know it’s null and void.”

“We nag because we’re worried,” Kyungsoo pipes in. “It may surprise you, but we actually _care_ if you get hurt.”

Jongin leans back in his chair, a shaky hand running through his hair. “I have it under control,” he tells them.

Neither of them look convinced, but they don’t continue the conversation. They understand Jongin well enough to know when to stop, and he’s thankful for it. He really does have great friends - even if Sehun darts out of the restaurant halfway through his meal because he spotted a hot guy walking past and wanted to test his luck.

“I bet you the bill he gets turned down,” Kyungsoo challenges.

Jongin grins. “You’re on.”

 

Yifan coaches in a youth basketball league in his free time. His dream had been to play professional basketball, but he blew out his knee in college. Jongin remembers Yifan going through the stages of grief, remembers the way Yifan’s entire being had crumpled when he heard he had to stop playing something he’d spent his life loving.

Jongin also remembers the way Yifan never gave up. Even if his dream was crushed, he found a way to bypass that and continue forward with a new dream.

Sometimes Jongin tags along to practices. He’s an extra set of eyes, someone to round up the balls and be there to herd the kids around if necessary. He’s not exactly an assistant coach - Yifan has Chanyeol for that - but Jongin likes to think he helps.

It’s also a good excuse to stay in shape. Jongin doesn’t get to work out as much as he used to in college. Even when he had assignments weighing him down, he still managed to get in a work out every other day. Not anymore. Adulthood has its hooks in Jongin and he can feel it in his bones.

He also regularly goes in for bi-yearly physicals - without being dragged in by his mother. His friends give him shit for it, but Jongin refuses to let something take him by surprise. He’d left work early for his doctor’s appointment, hoping to get in and out in time to meet Yifan at the practice courts before the kids get there.

There are few things more attractive than Yifan all sweaty and grinning as he jogs up to the basket, the ball rolling beautifully off his fingertips as he sinks the shot. Jongin loves watching him; he loves the pure joy etched on Yifan’s face. Even if he couldn’t play professionally, he still has this. Even if he has to take it easy and sometimes has to soak in the tub for his knee, Jongin knows Yifan has no regrets.

Jongin sits in the small patient room, holding his gown closed. He’s cold and he hates the way the paper under him crinkles when he so much as breathes. He glances over to his pile of folded clothing and to his phone sitting on top. He switched it to vibrate, but he’s still paranoid he’s going to miss a call.

Jongin’s been visiting this small family practice for a few years now; when he moved away from home and to a new city to go to college, he’d searched for a new doctor, and after a lot of research, this is the place he chose. He likes it here. He likes his doctor - a middle-aged man with a kind smile and warm hands.

“Jongin,” he greets when he comes through the door. “How are you today?”

Jongin sits up straighter. “Good, good,” he answers honestly. “A little tired from work, but it’s the end of the day so I can’t complain.”

“Still sitting at a desk all day?” Dr. Kim inquires as he sets his clipboard on the table and stands in front of Jongin. His hands come up - wonderfully warm - to begin feeling along Jongin’s neck.

Jongin makes an affirmative noise, tilting his head up some.

“That’s good. Anything bothering you? Problem spots?”

Jongin’s been through this enough to stop thinking as he answers without moving too much. It doesn’t take long, and Jongin is thankful for that. The gown is drafty and he’s starting to shiver. He sits back up, crossing his ankles as he waits the final run down.

A soft knock on the door interrupts them and Jongin waits patiently as Dr. Kim has a short whispered conversation with a nurse. He returns to Jongin after, pulling his pen from his coat pocket. He scribbles something down before regarding Jongin.

“Well it’s a good thing you came in today,” Dr. Kim begins. “There was something odd in one of your tests.”

Jongin’s heart immediately drops into his stomach and his eyes grow wide. “W-what odd?”

“I had them run it twice just in case, but both results came out the same.” Dr. Kim glances down at his clipboard and then back at Jongin. “You’re pregnant.”

 

Since Jongin was little, he’s had a safe space - the one place in the world where he knew he wouldn’t be turned away or judged. That place is Sehun. Jongin’s halfway home when he turns around, heading for Sehun’s apartment instead.

He doesn’t see Sehun’s car in his designated spot, so he waits. Jongin drums his fingers on his steering wheel, worrying his lip in his teeth as he lets his reality sink in around him.

He’s pregnant.

In all his daydreaming, all his fantasies, getting pregnant never even made a guest appearance. Sure, he’s thought about one day marrying Yifan, moving to the suburbs and playing the doting father while Yifan hosted neighborhood barbeques every month. But it’s another thing entirely for _this_.

This wasn’t in Jongin’s plan.

What is he supposed to do now?

He sucks in a deep, grounding breath, and finally _finally_ sees the familiar red of Sehun’s car pulling in. Jongin’s out of his own car and heading for Sehun before Sehun’s even shut his door.

Sehun is clearly startled to see Jongin, but there’s this dawning on his face, an understanding that Jongin needs him, and Sehun doesn’t say a word. He curves his arm over Jongin’s shoulder and draws him to his side as they head wordlessly up to Sehun’s apartment.

Jongin finds himself sitting as small as he can on the end of Sehun’s couch as Sehun makes a beeline for the kitchen. “Is this a beer or liquor conversation?” Sehun asks.

Jongin hears the clinking of glass, and a thud that follows. “For you, liquor,” he tells Sehun.

Sehun comes back into view with several shot glasses in one hand and a bottle of rum in the other. He takes up the cushion next to Jongin and sets down the glasses to open the bottle. He over-pours, clear liquid sloshing to the table. Sehun doesn’t seem to care as he plucks one of the shot glasses up and brings it to his lips. Jongin watches, enviously, as Sehun tips it back, drinking it all down in one swallow.

Sehun slides the second shot glass toward Jongin.

Jongin stares at it for a moment, and then back at Sehun. “I’m pregnant,” he blurts out.

Sehun blinks once before picking up the second shot glass and drinking that one too. “I’m going to need the bottle,” Sehun answers, pushing the glasses out of the way.

Jongin gives him a look of disapproval.

“What? I’m drinking for _two_ now.”

“I’m the pregnant one,” Jongin hisses.

“And _I_ take my best friend duties seriously,” Sehun counters.

“So do your _duty_ and _tell me what the fuck I’m supposed to do_ ,” Jongin tells him, the panic starting to rise in his throat.

“Well, for starters,” Sehun begins after taking a swig from the bottle of peach rum, “have you told Yifan?”

Jongin’s mouth drops and he stops breathing. “Oh shit,” he finally forces out.

“You forgot about Yifan.”

“I forgot about Yifan.”

“I’d say that’s a first,” Sehun snorts.

Jongin resists the urge to hit his friend, instead curling next to him for the support. Sehun keeps his arm around Jongin as he takes another swallow from his bottle of rum.

“How do I tell Yifan?” Jongin whispers.

“For all your insisting that you and Yifan are _great friends_ , I’m sure Yifan will step up to the plate,” Sehun tells him. “You two get along amazingly. If any two people could have a kid and still be friends, it’s you crazy affectionate weirdos.”

Jongin swallows over the lump in his throat. _Friends_. “I bailed on meeting him before practice,” Jongin says quietly.

“Which he’ll forgive you for, especially when you tell him _why_.” Sehun reaches forward to finally put down the bottle of rum, wrapping his now freed arm around Jongin and all but hauling Jongin into his lap. “And no matter what else happens, I’m here.”

Tears prick at Jongin’s eyes and he nods. He knows. And it makes it a little easier when he finally leaves the security of Sehun’s apartment and drives back to his own place. If all else fails, he’ll have Sehun. That comfort only gets him to the door, and as he steps inside his home, dread fills him from head to toe.

Yifan isn’t home yet, but he will be. There’s an unanswered text on Jongin’s phone that’s just _???_ from Yifan. He’d sent it over an hour ago. Jongin finally opens the message and types back a reply: _fdn_.

It’s code for _full disclosure night_. It means Yifan will cancel whatever plans he has after practice - probably drinks with Chanyeol - and will come home for the two of them to have an honest, open talk. They usually sit down for a full disclosure night twice a year, just to make sure they’re both still good with where things are. It’s always been an easy thing to get through, but not this time.

Jongin’s about to drop a bombshell, and for once, he doesn’t know how Yifan is going to react.

Jongin thinks he’s going to be sick. He’s never been good with confrontation, and he gets defensive easily, which usually makes things worse. And right now he’s feeling exposed, weak, scared. He twists his hands together, pacing between the couch and the coffee table. He steals glances at the clock, the nerves in his stomach only twisting tighter with every passing moment.

Jongin eventually has to stop moving, settling himself carefully on the couch. He unclenches his jaw long enough to pull in several deep breaths, letting them out slowly. He’s going to work himself into a frenzy if he keeps this up. This is _Yifan_ he’s going to talk to. Not some complete stranger. _Yifan_. And even if Jongin doesn’t know how Yifan is going to react, he _knows Yifan_.

It’s almost eight when Yifan gets home. It’s been just over three hours since Jongin’s appointment and it still hasn’t really sunk in yet. His head keeps screaming useless tag lines and blurbs he’s seen on pamphlets and commercials about birth control at him, which just makes him more panicky.

And despite it all, just _seeing_ Yifan walk in, his keys hung on the hook Jongin never uses and sneakers left on the pile by the door, is enough to ease some of Jongin’s nerves. He sinks back into the couch cushion, bringing his legs up and wrapping his arms around them.

“Hey,” Yifan gets out, his voice breathy, probably from running up the stairs at full speed. “I made it home as soon as I could.”

Yifan sits on the coffee table in front of Jongin, sweat still shining on his skin. Jongin wants to brush the strands of hair off his forehead, wants to nuzzle his way into Yifan’s embrace. Instead, he tightens his grip on his legs and tries not to hide his face.

“Jongin, what’s wrong?” Yifan inquires. He leans toward Jongin, like he wants to touch him, but pulls back before he does. “What did I do?” Yifan’s voice has gone rough, like he’s afraid, nervous.

Jongin has the sudden urge to comfort him, when _he’s_ the one who needs comforting. It’s a little bit funny, but the smile never makes it to Jongin’s lips. Too many emotions are fighting for dominance, and Jongin is lost. He feels like he’s slipping beneath rough waters and the current has him helpless, dragging him where it wants.

Now he wishes he would have thought to drag Sehun here with him for moral support.

Jongin clears his throat and opens his mouth, only nothing comes out. He tries again, finally lowering his legs. He doesn’t need a barrier between him and Yifan. Not now. Not when they’re going to have a child together.

This time, a bubble of panicked laughter does make it out, and Yifan’s eyes grow wide. “Jongin,” he says softly, this time reaching out and resting his hand on Jongin’s knee. “You have to tell me what’s going on or I can’t help.”

“I - I don’t know how to say it,” Jongin admits in a whisper. “I don’t know if I _can_ say it.” He sighs, wishing he had more confidence, he had more courage. Instead, he pulls the test results his doctor had given him a copy of out of his pocket and hands the paper to Yifan.

Jongin watches as Yifan unfolds it, his eyes scanning over the sheet. Jongin sees the exact moment Yifan reads the results.

“Holy shit,” Yifan breathes out, looking up at Jongin. “You’re -”

“Yeah.”

“ _We’re_ -”

“Yeah.”

Yifan stares at Jongin, putting the paper down on the table as he scoots forward. “Are you okay?” he asks.

Jongin shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know.” His voice cracks, and there are tears welling in his eyes, and the only thing that brings him any comfort is the way Yifan drops to the floor in front of him to pull Jongin into his arms. Jongin goes limp against him, trying to swallow down his tears, but he can’t. He isn’t even sure _why_ he’s crying; it could be relief, panic, fear, or all of them at once.

Yifan holds him close and Jongin slides forward off the couch and fully onto Yifan to clutch him harder. He’s shaking. He’s sobbing and he can’t stop. His chest aches, and he hears Yifan whispering in his ear as he rocks Jongin.

“It’s okay,” Yifan tells him. “It’s going to be okay. We’re going to figure this out.”

“I’m so sorry,” Jongin mumbles.

Yifan leans away, grasping Jongin by his chin to lift his head. “Don’t you dare,” he says, forehead wrinkled with worry and his eyes glassy. “You have nothing to be sorry for. We got ourselves into this, and we’ll handle things as they come. Okay?”

Jongin swallows, nodding his head because he doesn’t think he can speak without bursting into tears again. He doesn’t know why he was so worried about Yifan’s reaction before. Yifan’s always been supportive, always been understanding. That’s why Jongin loves him.

Now there’s this. He hadn’t even figured out how he was going to deal with his feelings, and now he’s going to have a child with the man he loves - the man who sees him as a friend. Jongin is floating with nothing to tie him down. It’s too much.

He melts against Yifan when Yifan kisses his forehead, letting Jongin cling to him as they rock on the floor. And even if Jongin is in a chaotic downslide, Yifan being here soothes him.

“Have you eaten?” Yifan asks him minutes later.

Jongin’s stopped crying finally, but everything aches. “No,” he admits with a sigh.

“Come on,” Yifan guides, gently moving to stand and bringing Jongin up with him. “I’ll make something. You should put a cool washcloth on your eyes so they don’t hurt later, okay? We’ll figure the rest of this out tomorrow.”

Jongin can do this part. He can listen to instruction. It takes effort, _real_ effort to peel himself away from Yifan, but he does it. Yifan helps. He doesn’t release his hold on Jongin until he’s steady. Jongin gives him a heavy, tired nod before Yifan is gone, heading into the kitchen.

Jongin watches him, watches the way Yifan runs his fingers through his hair as he disappears into the kitchen. Tomorrow.

 

“So how far along are you?” Yifan asks during breakfast.

Jongin shrugs, hands wrapped around his mug of tea. “Don’t know,” he admits. “They’re going to do a more thorough examination next week.”

“Oh.” Yifan sets down his plate and slides into the seat across from Jongin. The table is tiny, meant for two, but Yifan is already bigger than the average person so their legs always bump together. “Did you want me to come with you?”

“It’s in the middle of the day,” Jongin tells him. “I don’t want you to miss work. Besides,” Jongin adds with a shrug, “it’s just going to be tests and questions and boring stuff. I’ll be fine.”

The look on Yifan’s face says he disagrees, but he doesn’t push it. Any other time and he would have. Jongin doesn’t know what that means. Does it mean Yifan doesn’t care as much as he lets on? Or does it mean Yifan is trying to give Jongin his space? Now Jongin regrets brushing off the offer. He can put up a strong front, but that’s as far as it goes. He’s terrified.

It’s easy to hold his tongue. He’s been doing it for so long, it’s second nature. So he finishes his tea, and thanks Yifan for breakfast, and doesn’t mention how it’d be nice if Yifan _did_ decide to come with him to his appointment. Maybe he’ll see if Sehun can join him instead.

It’s a little odd, going through his morning routine the same as he does every day. Everything is going to be forever changed; it feels like there should be something different, something tangible, but it’s all the same. His toothpaste tastes the same, his clothes fit the same, and he leaves the house just the same as he does every work day.

By the time Jongin makes it to work, he’s already compartmentalized the whole thing. He can worry about his next steps and doctor’s appointments and how Yifan is going to fit in with it all _later_. For right now, he needs to do his job. It will give him a break from his tumultuous thoughts, and, hopefully, give him some much needed perspective. And nothing puts things in perspective like having to listen to entitled rich people whining about the horrors of having to hand wash their dishes.

 

Jongin does the same thing he always does when he knows he’s messed up - he tries to make himself smaller, less noticeable. It starts when he gets home from work, slinking through the living room and to his own room so he doesn’t draw Yifan’s attention. His back is aching, his head is throbbing, and Jongin just wants to sleep it off. He’s managed to get his pants off and flop on his bed when Yifan knocks.

“Do you need anything?” Yifan offers from the other side of the door.

“No.”

Silence follows, and Jongin thinks he’s safe, but Yifan speaks again. “Do you need a massage? An _actual_ massage,” he tacks on. “No funny business.”

“I’m good,” Jongin replies even as he rolls onto his side, wincing because yes, he could use a massage.

“Just - just let me know if there’s anything you need,” Yifan eventually says. “I’ll be here.”

Jongin hears Yifan walking away and he buries his face in his pillow. He’s such an idiot.

What he wants is to curl himself into Yifan's hold because he feels safe there. But he doesn't want to impose himself on Yifan either. Being friends who get each other off is one thing; having a kid together when they aren't even _together_ is another thing entirely. Jongin doesn't know his place anymore, and he's afraid to ask.

 

"You're an idiot."

Jongin slides down in his chair, scowling as he crosses his arms defensively. When he came to Kyungsoo for advice, he wasn't expecting to have his own behavior thrown in his face. Kyungsoo had taken the pregnancy news with nothing more than a raised eyebrow, but after Jongin spilled his guts about being unsure around Yifan, Kyungsoo had gone for the throat.

Jongin had expected blunt honesty, and it stings, but it's what he needs to hear.

"Look," Kyungsoo begins, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, "you have feelings for Yifan, and everyone around you two can tell there's something more than friendship on _both_ sides. For the sake of your own sanity, and for this kid, you owe it to everyone involved to at least clear the air before it gets worse."

Jongin squirms, knowing Kyungsoo is right. "How?" He might know it's the right thing to do, but it doesn't automatically give him the courage to do it. He's been hiding from Yifan for a week. The guilt is eating him alive, and he's caught in this awful limbo, trying to find the best way out without getting hurt in the process.

"Use your words," Kyungsoo states. "You're both grown ass men who are perfectly capable of talking out your feelings."

"We're not all like you," Jongin grumbles.

“You mean well adjusted?”

Jongin sighs. “What if I just make things worse?”

“Trust me, you won’t.”

“But me and words have a complicated relationship,” Jongin whines.

“Jongin, if anyone out there - other than Sehun - can decipher _Jongin speak_ , it’s Yifan. He’s been living with you for how long? Just do it. Yifan will figure it out, although I suggest keeping away from grunting and gurgling.”

Jongin tosses a throw pillow at Kyungsoo. “Ass.”

Jongin leaves Kyungsoo’s place feeling more settled. Having Kyungsoo validate what Sehun told him earlier - _dude, even if Yifan doesn’t want to be your romantic life partner, he still wouldn’t be an asshole to you_ \- takes the weight off his shoulders. He just needs to work up the nerve to broach the subject with Yifan.

It proves easier than expected when Jongin gets home to Yifan sitting on the couch, clearly having been waiting for him.

“I think we need another Full Disclosure Night,” Yifan says as Jongin slips off his shoes.

Jongin shuffles his way to the closest end of the couch to sit, keeping a safe distance between them. “I think so too.”

“I’m worried about you,” Yifan opens. “I’m worried about _us_.”

"Yeah," Jongin admits with a sigh. "That's my fault. I went into _fight or flight_ and flight won me over."

“Yeah, that’s what had me so worried,” Yifan confesses. “You’ve never gone _flight_ when it’s me before. And I get that these are . . . special circumstances, but it’s still me. If you think I’m upset with you -”

“I don’t!” Jongin interjects. “I just . . . “ Jongin pauses, running fingers through his already stressed tugged hair before letting his hand drop to his lap. “We already have a relationship that isn’t exactly normal, and adding something this big to it made me unsure. Of a lot of things.”

“Of me,” Yifan states.

“Of _myself_ ,” Jongin corrects. “Of what I should do now.”

“You seem to think you’re in this alone,” Yifan sighs. “You should know me better.” There’s a frown on Yifan’s face, and he’s picking at his nail with his thumb. He’s agitated.

Jongin scoots toward Yifan until they’re face-to-face, and he can reach out, rescuing Yifan’s cuticles. “I _do_ know you. But that doesn’t automatically mean I know how you’re going to react. I mean, I don’t even think _I’m_ reacting. I’m mostly in panic mode still. I have no idea what I’m doing, or _going_ to do.”

“Jongin,” Yifan says, taking Jongin by his wrist and tugging lightly on his arm, “this is stuff you talk to me about. I can’t do anything if you close me out. I can’t imagine what you’re going through, or what you’re _going_ to go through, but I want to be here for it. Just because we aren’t a couple doesn’t mean we can’t do this together.”

Jongin’s heart sinks. “What if we were a couple?” Jongin inquires, his head down to watch the way Yifan’s hand rests on his wrist. He can’t bring himself to look Yifan in the eye.

“Jongin, you don’t have to be with me just because we’re going to have a baby,” Yifan answers. “That’s not something I’d ask you to do.”

Tears well in Jongin’s eyes, and his chest aches. It wasn’t even a flat out rejection of his feelings, but it stings like it was. He wants to drop the topic, but that would only make things fester. He can’t continue this way - holding his feelings in - when things are about to change so much. Jongin tries to blink away his tears before he looks up at Yifan.

“What if -” he begins, halting when he sees Yifan’s furrowed brow, the clear discomfort on his face. It almost keeps Jongin from confessing. Almost. “What if I want to be with you?” he says, his voice so low it’s nearly a whisper.

Yifan looks genuinely surprised, his mouth opening, but nothing coming out. “I- I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret,” Yifan replies, his voice changing with every word, like he’s still trying to process what Jongin said. “You might feel that way right now, but your body is going through so many changes. Your hormones -”

Jongin laughs. Yifan falls silent and stares at him. “You honestly think I’d make this decision based on feelings that started a week ago?” Jongin shakes his head, a fond smile on his face as he pats Yifan’s cheek. “I’ve been head over heels for you for over a year,” he finally confesses. “And I can’t keep that hidden anymore. Not when there’s so much on the line.”

Yifan is staring at Jongin, frozen, his eyes wide and mouth open.

“Yifan, you don’t have to want me back,” Jongin explains. “I just needed that out in the open. What happens next is entirely up to you.”

Yifan finally lets out a strange, strangled sort of laugh. “Not want you back?” Yifan questions. “I thought you figured it out already. Chanyeol’s been ragging on me about how crazy I am about you for ages now. He keeps bringing up that dating shit just to fuck with me.”

Now it’s Jongin’s turn to stare. His chest feels heavy; not necessarily in a bad way. His heart is racing and there’s so much hope rushing through him. “If you’re fucking with me -”

“I wouldn’t,” Yifan cuts in. “Not about this.” Yifan leans close, circling an arm around Jongin’s waist. “Jongin, I want you, and I know everything about this is backwards, but if you’ll have me . . ?”

“Are you seriously asking instead of just kissing me already?” Jongin whines. And then he saves Yifan the trouble by kissing him first.

It takes a moment for Yifan to kiss him back, but when he does, he does it _right_. Jongin groans against Yifan’s mouth, tilting his head as Yifan licks through his lips. He feels Yifan’s grip on him tighten, pulling Jongin toward him until he’s settled on Yifan’s lap. Jongin can’t stop touching; he runs his hands up Yifan’s chest, over his shoulders, down his back and then up to Yifan’s hair, fingers curling in the strands to hold on.

He’s been Yifan deprived for a week and it feels like an eternity. He’s missed this, and the best part is knowing he can have this. Jongin doesn’t have to second guess himself; he doesn’t have to pull back because he’s afraid of Yifan finding out how he feels. He can indulge completely without anything telling him it’s wrong.

Yifan’s hands run up Jongin’s back, broad palms bleeding heat through Jongin’s shirt. Jongin feels safe like this, safe in Yifan’s arms. When they finally pull apart, Jongin is smiling. His smile only grows wider when he sees Yifan grinning at him too. Yifan rests his forehead on Jongin’s and sighs.

“We’re a mess,” he breathes out with a soft laugh.

“Yeah,” Jongin admits, “but at least we’re a mess together.”

“You better believe it. And I’m going to be with you through every step of this, okay?”

Jongin nods, swallowing down the lump in his throat.

“I mean it,” Yifan affirms. “I’m not letting either of you go.”

Jongin can’t stop the tears this time. They slide down his cheeks in wet trails, dripping off his chin, and he doesn’t care. Yifan is here to wipe them away.

It also means Jongin doesn’t have to keep himself from climbing into Yifan’s bed at night. He’s gone a week in his own room, and he hasn’t been sleeping well because of it. Tonight, however, the moment he slides under Yifan’s comforter and buries his face in a pillow, he feels himself slipping peacefully to sleep. He only wakes partially when Yifan joins him, a strong arm around Jongin to hold him close. The last thing Jongin remembers is a kiss on the back of his neck.

 

Jongin calls his mother on a Tuesday. By the following afternoon, she has not only managed to drive six hours to his place, but with home cooked food still _warm_ now piling up on Jongin’s kitchen counter. He knew his mother would be supportive - after all, she’s not been very subtle about wanting grandkids - but this is more than he expected.

As Jongin takes a step back to allow his mother the space to micro-manage his pantry and refrigerator, Jongin goes through several emotions before settling on one - relief. He’s not in this alone, not with Yifan standing at his side, but neither of them know what they’re doing. His mother does. His point is made when his mother starts glancing at the nutritional facts on the food, clucking her tongue and allowing him to keep a few, but doing away with the rest.

Jongin watches on fondly as Yifan comes home and immediately starts whining about his favorite cereals being in the trash. Jongin’s mom has no problem educating Yifan on the dangers of high sugar in cereal, even if he’s not pregnant. Yifan bashfully shrinks down and listens to her, casting one last lingering glance at the boxes before shuffling out of the way.

Yifan curls an arm around Jongin’s waist, dropping a kiss on his temple. “She’s not staying long, is she?” he whispers in Jongin’s ear.

Jongin laughs.

 

Jongin’s doctor refers him to a different practice better suited for prenatal care, and after getting set up, they have Jongin come in specifically for an ultrasound just to see how far along he is. Yifan comes with him, holding Jongin’s hand the entire time.

It doesn’t really seem to sink in as reality for Jongin until he sees the image of his child on the monitor. It’s just a mildly human sort of shape right now, and Jongin stares at it - at the life he created with Yifan - until the image becomes blurry. It takes another moment for him to realize everything is blurry because there are tears in his eyes.

Yifan holds Jongin’s hands tighter, and they leave together in a heavy silence. Jongin and Yifan both have a picture. Jongin watches as Yifan pulls out his phone to take a picture of their child and text it to someone. A second later and Jongin’s phone pings.

He sees the notification on the screen and gapes at Yifan. “Did you send that to the chat group full of our friends?”

Yifan beams. “Yes I did.”

Jongin wants a hole to open under his feet and swallow him whole. Yifan has to drag him to his car, laughing at Jongin’s reaction.

“It was the easiest way to let everyone know,” Yifan explains.

It only gets worse when both their phones chime because someone has already messaged back.

Sehun:  
_i see it takes after yifan_

Jongin outright cackles. He loves Sehun so much. Yifan doesn’t find it as funny.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Yifan demands, irritated that he can’t text Sehun himself because he’s driving, and Jongin refuses to do it for him.

Baekhyun:  
_whoa, dude, that’s a little too much nutty in your buddy. shoulda toaster strudel’d him instead of twinkieing_

Kyungsoo:  
_no one knows what the fuck you’re talking about_

Baekhyun  
_i’d love to demonstrate with you_

Chanyeol:  
_when is the baby shower?_

Sehun:  
_awww, that’s so sweet_

Chanyeol:  
_i need to get a custom made snapback for the baby, and the lead time could be over a month_

Sehun:  
_i retract every nice thing i ever said about you_

Jongin closes the chat. He absolutely can not put up with that crazy group right now. He’s still processing the idea that in roughly seven months, he’s going to have a baby. He still needs to tell his bosses so he can arrange to have someone take his place. Which brings up the issue of money. With Jongin and Yifan both working, they make the rent and their bills without too much of a problem. But what’s going to happen when Jongin has the baby? And does he really want to put the baby in a daycare so he can go back to work?

There are so many things to work out, so much to do before this baby is born, and Jongin has managed to put himself back into panic mode. He takes in a deep breath to calm himself and by the time he’s letting it out, Yifan has slid a hand over to rest on Jongin’s thigh. He squeezes lightly.

“Whatever it is you’re thinking about, don’t. We’ve got time.”

 

Jongin never actually thought he’d be more tired now than he was when he was a teenager. He remembers vacations when he would do everything he could to keep from getting out of his bed for days at a time. It was peak laziness, peak sleeping. It’s nothing compared to what he’s going through now.

Every morning becomes a challenge when he’s encased in warmth, comfortably plastered to Yifan. And it’s not the comfort that keeps him in bed, but the weight of his eyelids. Usually he’d make tea to wake himself up, or if it’s really bad, tempt coffee, but caffeine is now off the table. And so is staying in bed when he has a job to get to, which is why, when the weekend finally comes around, he makes it his mission to relive his teenage goals.

Yifan, being an indulgent, wonderful man, builds a fort in his bedroom, setting up Jongin’s laptop inside it so he can binge watch his favorite shows. Yifan can’t stay the entire time - he has practice - but he makes sure Jongin has all he needs within arm’s reach before he goes.

On Sunday, however, Jongin isn’t as lucky. He’s only just managed to stumble out of Yifan’s bed, still half asleep and wondering if he can get away with showering in the morning, when people show up. He stares at the door in confusion when someone knocks, and it’s Yifan who gets up to answer it.

Kyungsoo and Sehun come walking in first, with Chanyeol following.

“Baekhyun will be here soon,” Kyungsoo tells Jongin as he walks over, disdain written across his face as he attempts to pet Jongin’s hair down.

“He’s bringing pizza,” Chanyeol adds.

“Why?” Jongin finally speaks.

Kyungsoo takes a step back. “You have death breath. Go brush your teeth, and for all our sake, put on some pants that aren’t held up by the miracle of your dick.”

Jongin scowls. “But _why_?”

“Because we’re celebrating!” Sehun announces. Jongin just stares at him until Sehun’s grin fades, replaced with resignation. “Hey, tweedledumb, we’re celebrating you and tweedledee finally admitting your undying love. And all it took was a baby!”

“An act of God,” Chanyeol snorts. “It was painful to watch you two.”

“You’re uninvited,” Jongin gripes, even as Kyungsoo starts nudging him toward the bathroom.

“You can’t uninvite me,” Chanyeol tells him, sticking his tongue out. “This was my idea!”

“Did you have to make it so early in the day?” Jongin calls out as he finally gets pushed into the bathroom.

“Jongin, it’s two in the afternoon,” Kyungsoo says before shutting the door in Jongin’s face. Jongin stares at the door for a minute before turning to see his reflection in the mirror. He nearly shrieks. He looks like roadkill. He definitely needs a shower before showing his face again.

The water wakes him up, but his movements are still sluggish. He feels drained. Maybe moving around will get his blood flowing and help. Food couldn’t hurt either. The scent of pizza coming from under the door is appetizing, and Jongin swears his mouth is watering when he finally makes his grand re-entrance.

Baekhyun is sitting cross-legged at the coffee table, a stack of pizza boxes in front of him, and Jongin might actually be drooling. He ignores everyone in favor of the food, outright moaning when he takes his first bite.

“Ok, yeah, I can see the appeal now,” Baekhyun comments.

Jongin looks down at him to see Baekhyun appraising him with a quick sweep up and down his body with his eyes. Jongin can feel his cheeks heating in embarrassment, but he still manages to knock Baekhyun’s leg with his foot as Yifan tries to tug Jongin away by the back of his shirt.

“Sit before you make a mess,” Yifan tells him.

Jongin does as he’s told, taking a spot on the couch and smiling when Yifan sits next to him. He scoots closer, happy to find his usual place at Yifan’s side, tucked against him. He pulls his feet up and gets comfortable. It really is nice having all his friends here, even if they’re loud. Jongin doesn’t mind loud as long as they don’t try to pull him into it.

Yifan serves as a buffer. He participates, but also keeps half his attention on Jongin, never moving too much or getting too loud. And, honestly, it just makes Jongin want him more.

Yifan is so considerate, so indulgent, so protective. It’s easy to imagine those same qualities carrying over into the kind of father he’ll be. It makes him feel warm inside, and Jongin, now finished with his pizza, steals Yifan’s hand for his own.

Jongin thinks he’s taken moments like this for granted. He always assumed his friends would be there for him - and they have - but that’s not to say things will always be this way. This baby is going to be the first in what’s probably going to be a long line of changes. Jongin only hopes they’ll be able to do this, still, years down the road.

“Hey, you okay?” Sehun asks, pulling Jongin’s attention.

He hadn’t even realized Sehun had moved over to him. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“You sure?” Kyungsoo inquires.

“I just really love all you guys,” Jongin tells them. “And I hope we’re always friends.”

“I didn’t think he was going to get all emotional until the third trimester,” Baekhyun stage whispers.

Jongin grabs the nearest pillow off the couch and lobs it at him.

Baekhyun seems pleased with himself, even though he gets hit in the face with the pillow. He falls back onto the floor, his hand over his heart. “Your love wounds me,” he croons.

Jongin can’t even feign irritation. He’s so fond of them all. Not that he’s going to admit it again any time soon because there’s only so much he can take. He’s just thankful for Sehun who can always tell when Jongin’s hit his socialization limit.

Sehun’s the one who herds the others out of Jongin’s apartment with promises of alcohol at the local dive bar, stopping only long enough to pull Jongin into a hug before he’s gone too.

“You can go with them if you want,” Jongin tells Yifan.

Yifan scrunches his nose and walks over to Jongin. “I’d rather have you to myself.” Yifan kisses Jongin who sighs happily, lips parting and arms circling Yifan’s neck.

He’s still tired, but kissing Yifan is one of those things he’ll never be too tired for. Yifan backs Jongin up until he hits against the wall. Jongin’s breath hitches, a low groan filtering between their mouths when Yifan slots his thigh between Jongin’s legs and lifts. The sudden friction is enough to have Jongin pushing his hips forward for more.

They haven’t done this, haven’t had sex since Jongin found out he was pregnant. They’ve made out a few times, once on the couch when they were trying to watch a movie, and twice in Yifan’s bed before falling asleep. It’s the longest they’ve gone since they started sleeping together.

Yifan seems hesitant to go further, like he’s worried Jongin might not want it, which is completely absurd. Jongin holds tighter to him, whispering how much he wants Yifan inside him, and that’s what it takes for Yifan to snap into action.

They end up in Jongin room, falling on his bed together, because Yifan’s blankets need to be washed after Jongin’s extended stay. Not that it matters. Jongin couldn’t care less where they are when Yifan has his hands all over him, tugging at clothes until they’re skin to skin.

“Tell me if you need me to stop,” Yifan tells Jongin just before pushing slicks fingers inside him.

Jongin whimpers, fists balled in the sheets by his head as he rocks down. It’s been too long, and he feels sensitive, his head already buzzing. Yifan isn’t as slow as usual, and Jongin is thankful for that. His own impatience is eating away at him, his moans turning to whines when Yifan pulls away.

Yifan is over him again soon, his cock rubbing down Jongin’s crack and up to his balls before pushing against his rim. Jongin hooks his arms around Yifan’s shoulders, his head back and breath stolen when Yifan slides into him. Yifan’s moan is louder than Jongin’s and he drops his head to Jongin’s shoulder.

He moves cautiously at first, building up a quicker rhythm after he makes sure Jongin is alright. It’s sweet, and Jongin would tell him as much if he could speak. But Yifan is now quite literally fucking him so deep and so earnestly that Jongin doesn’t think he can remember how to put two syllables together.

Yifan steals one of Jongin’s hands, linking their fingers before pushing them to the mattress. Jongin squeezes as he stares into Yifan’s eyes. He doesn’t dare look away. There’s so much there; he’s never had the courage to do this before. Maybe he should have. Jongin gets to watch the pleasure as it takes over Yifan’s features, his pink lips parted and eyebrows furrowed.

He’s still handsome, even with his face scrunched up. Jongin scrapes his fingers through Yifan’s hair, cupping the back of his neck. Yifan thrusts into him, quick and shallow, and Jongin holds tighter to him, a choked moan filling the space between them as Jongin comes untouched.

Yifan closes his eyes, head hanging, and powers through it. Jongin lets the waves sweep him away, his nose tingling and skin sticky with sweat as Yifan comes inside him.

It’s a beautiful moment, and Jongin revels in it. He falls in love with Yifan more as they share breathless kisses, Yifan asking if he’s alright between each one. Jongin finally tells him that he’d be better if he could soak in a long bath.

He doesn’t actually mean for Yifan to get up and run him a bath, but that’s what Yifan does. Jongin nearly cries, only just managing to pull himself together when Yifan comes back into the room to scoop Jongin off the bed and carry him to the bathroom. Jongin only causes mild chaos when he tries to drag Yifan into the tub with him.

“In our next place, a tub for two is going to be the number one requirement,” Yifan declares, grabbing a towel to soak up the water around the bathtub.

Jongin just grins. _Our next place_.

 

Jongin musters the courage to tell his bosses his situation when his pants start getting a little too tight to button. He has to wiggle them down his hips, leaving the button undone and zipper up until he can get out for new ones. It’s going to be obvious soon, and that means he’s running out of time to figure things out.

The news is met with surprise, but genuine congratulations. They assure him they’ll worry about finding someone to take over for him. Jongin and Yifan had talked about it, and they decided it was best for Jongin to just stay home. It’s one less decision to fret over, but Jongin still doesn’t like knowing Yifan is going to have to pick up the slack. It’s why he’s been googling at home jobs in his spare time.

In the meantime, Yifan has started offering private basketball lessons. Jongin just hopes Yifan doesn’t injure himself. He worries. He worries a _lot_.

“You’re going to go gray,” Kyungsoo tells him. “Worrying over every little thing isn’t going to make things better. At some point you’re going to have to trust that Yifan knows what he’s doing.”

Jongin frowns. “Worrying might not fix things, but it sure motivates me to try,” he replies.

“Where was that attitude when you and Yifan were locked in eternal _friend mode_?” Kyungsoo asks, his eyebrow raised in a challenge.

“You are never going to let that go.”

“Not when it’s such good ammunition. I’m going to tell your kid all about it as a bedtime story.”

“This is why you will never be the godfather,” Jongin sniffs.

“Oh? Who is in contention for that? Chanyeol? He’d probably try to slam dunk the kid live on his radio show just for ratings.”

Jongin shudders; Kyungsoo may have a point there. “It’s still on our list of things to decide. We haven’t gotten down that far yet.”

“What’s next on this list then? Maybe I can help.”

“Moving my things into Yifan’s room and converting my old room into the baby’s room. We’re going to try and knock that out this weekend. It’ll be easy because we literally have nothing for the baby yet.”

“Count me in,” Kyungsoo says. “I’ll see if I can wrangle Baekhyun into a little manual labor too. He’s been far too energetic lately.”

“I think that’s just who he is as a person,” Jongin comments.

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo sighs. “It’s exhausting.”

 

With the help of their friends, Jongin and Yifan manage to rearrange their entire apartment over the weekend. They open up space in the living room, and finally toss the old recliner in the trash. Jongin’s old bed stays in the baby’s room, pushed to the wall and covered in navy sheets. The rest of the room is left bare, the top shelves in the closet home to a few boxes of Jongin’s old things. He’ll go through those later.

Jongin isn’t allowed to do any of the lifting, which would be annoying if he wasn’t too tired to care. He spends an hour texting his mother because she sent him pictures of recipes he should be cooking to stay healthy and the images are too blurry to make out. Baekhyun rescues him by divulging he knows how to make most of them already.

“I’ll send you links,” Baekhyun assures Jongin. “Just promise me you won’t burn the place down. Yifan’s told me about that time you burned water.”

“I didn’t burn water,” Jongin insists. “I let it boil dry. There’s a difference.”

“Jongin, sweetie, cooking is a life skill. You need to at least grasp the basics. Don’t worry,” Baekhyun announces, patting Jongin on the cheek. “I’ll teach you.”

“I feel like there’s a catch to this,” Jongin says, wary about how open and happy Baekhyun is about all this.

“No catch,” Baekhyun shrugs. “But if you happen to be thinking of candidates for godfather of your unborn, consider how amazing I could be.” Baekhyun saunters off toward the kitchen and Jongin just stares at him. He never would have even guessed Baekhyun would want a responsibility like that. And truth be told, he and Yifan haven’t even broached the subject yet.

He slumps and pats his growing bump. There are hard days ahead.

 

Jongin and Yifan decide not to find out the gender. It doesn’t matter anyway when they get to see their baby, who looks more human and less blob, during the 16 week ultrasound. It’s a solid hour of being able to watch their baby move around, even if Jongin can’t really feel it unless it’s a big move. It’s an amazing experience.

“This is really happening,” Yifan says when they get home.

Jongin has a new set of pictures to send out to his parents, this time in 3D. He pauses mid-text and gives Yifan a look. “Did this not clue you in?” Jongin asks, patting the bump that’s starting to be obvious even beneath his shirts.

“No, I mean, it’s different knowing something is happening, and _seeing_ that something becoming . . . _something_.”

Jongin snorts. “I didn’t know ultrasound machines could break someone’s ability to string words together,” he laughs.

“It’s - our baby is . . . _a baby_ ,” Yifan explains, walking over to Jongin to rest his hands on Jongin’s sides. “And it’s right here. Growing. And in a few months, it’ll be here.”

“5 months,” Jongin corrects. “Please don’t make this faster than I can handle.”

“Hey,” Yifan says, shuffling a little bit closer. “We are going to own this parenting thing. We’ll figure it out, I promise.”

Jongin sinks against Yifan, hugging him as he lets out a sigh. “I hope so. I really don’t want to screw up something so important.”

“See?” Yifan says, “you’re worrying like a parent already.”

Jongin pinches Yifan’s side, satisfied when Yifan shrieks and bounces back out of his reach. It serves him right.

 

With Jongin’s growing baby bump, the aches and pains follow. He eventually invests in an inflatable donut for his chair at work because the added weight was making it painful to sit longer than ten minutes at a time. He can get away with pacing through some parts of his job, but not all of them.

His own shirts start getting just a bit too tight to be comfortable, so Jongin raids Yifan’s closet. He only bothers buying two pairs of pants he can wear to work, choosing to live the rest of his pregnancy in pajama pants that ride low under his belly or no pants at all. Yifan calls him cute. Sehun calls him slovenly. Jongin would be more inclined to believe Sehun if Sehun wasn’t currently trying to convince Jongin and Yifan to move to an apartment closer to him.

“When we eventually move,” Yifan interjects, “it will be into a _house_. If you want to be close, you can buy one too.”

“If you’re going to go full white picket fence, count me in,” Sehun says, eyes crinkling from how wide he’s smiling.

Yifan just sighs and walks off.

“What’s gotten into him?” Sehun asks, resting his head on Jongin’s shoulder.

“My mother.”

Jongin’s mother has started visiting bi-weekly. Yifan goes through the kitchen to hide all his favorite foods before she arrives. It’s a whole mission, and Jongin keeps finding forgotten cereal boxes left in the strangest of places.

Jongin, thanks to Baekhyun, is finally able to prove he can cook a healthy meal for himself while his mother watches. She even eats her entire serving, giving Jongin a proud smile. It doesn’t stop her from bringing already cooked food anyway, but Jongin doesn’t mind. She’s still the far better cook.

 

Jongin stops going out as much, unless he absolutely has to. Part of it is to save money. The other part is being comfortable in public while not looking like he rolled out of bed. So most nights, when he would be out attempting karaoke or testing his non-existent bowling skills, his friends now come over to the apartment. Jongin feels bad about it, but they brush it off.

“We’re not going to let you die of boredom,” Baekhyun scoffs, pulling out the Dragonball Z themed monopoly.

“No holds barred,” Chanyeol announces as he opens the box. Everyone reaches for the pieces to set the game up.

“Remember,” Kyungsoo adds, staring Chanyeol right in the eyes, “there’s no crying in monopoly.”

“That was _one_ time,” Chanyeol whines.

Baekhyun and Sehun don’t bother to hide their laughter as Chanyeol pouts. Jongin wishes Yifan was here, but he has a private lesson tonight. It’s nice to not have to spend the time alone, though. He has amazing friends.

The first few rounds of the board aren’t too exciting. Everyone scrambles to buy up as much property as they can. The dirty games don’t come out until later, when monopolies are split and people start dealing to finish their own.

Chanyeol comes out of the gate swinging. “Jongin, I’ll give you the two blues you need if you let me be the godfather.”

“What?” Jongin asks.

“What?” Baekhyun and Kyungsoo parrot.

“I think it’s a fair deal,” Chanyeol says, holding up the two properties. It _would_ give Jongin ownership of an entire side of the board.

“Since when did we involve real life deals in monopoly?” Baekhyun whines.

“Since Sehun traded Park Place for a bottle of whisky during our last game,” Kyungsoo reminds them all.

“I kept the bottle,” Sehun pipes in, “for sentimental value. It’s up on top of my cabinet in the kitchen. I call it Trophy Row.”

“That’s a little disturbing,” Kyungsoo comments.

“What else is up there?” Baekhyun inquires.

“That’s not important,” Chanyeol huffs. “Jongin, do we have a deal?”

Jongin scrunches his nose and lets out a sigh. “I can’t, in good conscience, decide the godfather of my unborn child over a game of monopoly.”

Baekhyun hisses out a soft noise of victory as Chanyeol slumps back and rolls the dice to finally take his turn.

The rest of the game goes as expected - Sehun blackmails Chanyeol for most of his property, Baekhyun loses a little of his dignity, and Kyungsoo winds up the victor. Jongin was the first one out, which gave him the best cheerleading vantage point. He also slid over to Sehun, helping him out through the game. It came down to Kyungsoo and Sehun in the end. But they all know Kyungsoo always wins.

Yifan makes it home soon after, sweaty and with a slight limp. He drops a kiss on Jongin’s mouth before going to take a shower. They clean everything up and by the time Yifan is out of the shower, only Jongin is left. He steals his way into their room, frowning as Yifan places a heating pad around his knee.

“It’s not that bad,” Yifan tells him, tugging on Jongin’s arm.

Jongin is careful as he sits on the bed. “I told you to be careful.”

“And I got carried away,” Yifan tells him. “It wasn’t that bad. This is mostly preemptive to make sure it doesn’t _get_ bad.”

Jongin doesn’t completely believe him, but he lets it go. Yifan is going to be Yifan, and Jongin just wants to be in Yifan’s arms right now. So he burrows himself against Yifan, knocking Yifan flat on his back.

“Chanyeol mentioned he wanted to be the baby’s godfather today.”

Yifan is silent for a moment before he sighs. “Yeah, he brought it up with me too.”

“Baekhyun bought it up before, too.”

“Baekhyun? Really?”

“Yeah,” Jongin laughs. “I was surprised. He was the first one who said anything about it.”

“Can you imagine the fight if we made both of them the godfather?”

“We could probably sell tickets,” Jongin comments. “Make it a pay-per-view.”

“If we made them take their shirts off, we could probably get enough to start a college fund.”

“It’s like crowd funding, but with perks,” Jongin laughs. “I wonder if they’d be down for it.”

“Baekhyun, yes. Chanyeol I’m not so sure about. He tries to maintain this tough guy image, but we all know he cries during cartoons and can’t take a hit without passing out.”

“He’s just like you, then,” Jongin teases. “I can’t believe I didn’t realize it before. I should have dated Chanyeol!”

Yifan growls - actually growls - as he rolls Jongin onto his back, hovering over him. “He could never make you as happy as I do.”

Jongin winds his arms and legs around Yifan, a cheeky smile on his face. “I know. You’re just so easy to rile up.”

Yifan scrunches his nose, but leans down to kiss Jongin. He keeps a careful distance over Jongin’s baby bump, then scoots down to leave a kiss on it too. “Don’t you worry, little peanut. I’ll keep you safe from Chanyeol.”

 

Jongin is just over six months along when he decides he’s done. His entire center of balance is thrown off. He actually starts crying in the shower because he can’t bend to wash his feet. A soapy, sniffling Jongin stands in the bathroom, halfway wrapped in a towel to text Yifan to come help him.

Yifan wipes Jongin’s tears away without comment, and strips down to join him. Jongin frowns as Yifan crouches to wash his feet, one hand braced on the wall and the other on Yifan’s shoulder so he doesn’t tip over entirely.

“This is quite the view,” Yifan teases.

Jongin frowns at him, upset because this is ridiculous. This is not a problem he ever expected to have. Stubbing his toes on furniture because he has to get up twice in the middle of the night to pee was something he expected. This is not. “Don’t be mean,” Jongin huffs.

“I’m not,” Yifan tells him. “I also think this is an opportunity I shouldn’t pass up.”

“What oppor - oh.” Jongin’s grip slips a little, and his knees lock as Yifan’s hand closes around his dick. This is something Jongin can get on board with.

It’s been some time since they’ve messed around in the shower, but muscle memory kicks in. Jongin only stumbles a little to place his feet on the grips, leaning his back on the wall to keep his balance. Yifan replaces his hand with his mouth and Jongin’s moan is loud, echoing back at him over the spray of the shower. He curls fingers in Yifan’s hair, breathing heavily as Yifan sucks him down.

It only gets better. Yifan is always handsy, always touching; this time, his fingers slide teasingly down Jongin’s crack, circling his rim and pushing against it without going in. Jongin whines, pulling tighter on Yifan’s hair because he wants more.

“Yifan, _Yifan_ ,” Jongin begs.

Yifan pulls off Jongin’s cock, his lips wet and pink, and a satisfied smirk on his handsome face. Jongin hates and loves it all at once. “I can keep blowing you right here until you come, but if you want more, we need to move to the bedroom.”

Jongin is torn, because he really wants to come, and the image of Yifan on his knees in front of him is way too enticing. But, in the end, Jongin decides he wants Yifan inside him more. “Bedroom,” he decides. “Now.”

Jongin finds himself on his side, a pillow between his legs and another under his head as Yifan pushes into him. The prep was quick, mostly just to get him wet because they had sex the night before. Jongin groans, his hand reaching blindly for Yifan when Yifan bottoms out. Jongin clenches around him, his body buzzing with how good it feels.

Yifan goes slow, grinding his cock into Jongin without pulling out for a while. Jongin rocks back, luxuriating in the way the pleasure spreads through him slowly, taking him over. Yifan rests his arm over Jongin’s chest, holding him back as he begins to pick up speed.

Jongin’s eyes slip closed, head tipping back. He feels Yifan’s mouth on his neck, the scrape of his teeth. Jongin’s cock rubs against the pillow with every thrust now, and it’s almost too much. He wants more, but he also doesn’t want this to stop. This is the only time he stops thinking, the only time he doesn’t feel like he’s unattractive.

Yifan comes before Jongin, his weight pushing Jongin a little more onto his front as he rides it out. Jongin whines, wiggling his hips to remind Yifan he’s still there.

“Sorry baby,” Yifan murmurs before he helps roll Jongin onto his back.

Jongin doesn’t get a chance to reply because Yifan is between his legs, his mouth sucking down his cock again. Jongin jerks up with a soft cry, apologizing after. Yifan hums around his cock, two fingers pushing into Jongin’s ass as he bobs his head. Jongin calls out when he’s about to come, but Yifan doesn’t pull off. Jongin goes still, trembling as he comes, and Yifan swallows it all.

Jongin’s legs fall to the side and he stares at the ceiling, breathless and blissed out. He feels Yifan’s hands on his thighs, and lifts his hips a little for Yifan to slide a towel beneath him.

Yifan lays on the bed beside Jongin, and Jongin pulls him in for a kiss. “I love you,” he whispers, forgetting that even if he’s known how he feels for a while, he’s never said it out loud before.

Yifan smiles at him, soft and sweet. He dips to push the tip of his nose to Jongin’s. “I love you too.”

Jongin kisses Yifan again. And again. Yifan falls halfway over him, resting a hand on the baby. Jongin thinks he could stay like this forever.

 

There was a time when Jongin was impatiently waiting to feel the baby kicking. After his ultrasound, and feeling those few movements, he wondered when he would get to feel it on his own. And now, well, it’s been three entire months of the baby moving and Jongin is ready for it to calm down.

He lays on his couch, shirt pulled up and arms out of the way. Sehun is sitting on the coffee table, his phone out to record. The baby has been running on an energy high today, and Sehun loves watching the way it moves around.

“It’s like a little alien inside you, trying to burst out,” Sehun had said at one point. Jongin had stared at him in horror for ten minutes.

Jongin reaches down to where the baby is laying on one side. He places his palm on his belly and pushes. He doesn’t do it hard, but it’s enough. Sehun records, with glee, the way Jongin’s entire belly wobbles and shakes as the baby visibly moves from one side to the other.

“That is the craziest shit,” Sehun says when he’s done. “I’m putting this on instagram.”

“If you get internet famous, leave me and my kid out of it,” Jongin tells him. “I don’t want fame screwing my kid up so young.”

“Please,” Sehun scoffs. “If anything messes your baby up, it’ll be Baekhyun. Or Chanyeol.” Sehun finally puts his phone down and helps Jongin sit up. “Are you guys really considering either of them as godfather?”

Jongin sighs, a hand supporting the underneath of his large belly. The baby is moving again, probably trying to kick a hole in Jongin’s bladder. “We are undecided still.”

“I heard Kyungsoo put his name in too.”

“It was chaos,” Jongin tells him. “Kyungsoo just dropped it mid-conversation - _in front of Chanyeol and Baekhyun_ \- and everyone started yelling!” Jongin runs his fingers through his hair and slouches, spreading his legs to alleviate some of his discomfort. “It’s all so exhausting.” Suddenly, he looks over at Sehun, eyes wide. “You’re not about to ask, are you?”

Sehun bursts out laughing. “Fuck no. I just want to spoil the little shit and give it back to you when I’m done.”

Jongin instantly relaxes. “Thank you,” he breathes. “I don’t think I can take much more of this mess.”

“It’s quite the pissing contest. I can’t wait to see who wins.”

“I’m surprised there’s not a betting pool.”

Sehun grins. “Not one you know about.”

 

The baby shower isn’t a surprise. Jongin helped plan it because it’s at his apartment and Yifan has been too busy to do much that doesn’t involve lying down or hobbling to the corner store at 2 in the morning because Jongin has heartburn and they’re out of milk. Again.

Sehun and Jongin’s mom coordinated most of it. She drove in last night to stay over and help finish everything in the morning. Sehun was here first thing too.

Jongin, who is feeling more and more like a beached whale, has been enjoying himself despite having had to have Yifan pull on one arm and Chanyeol on the other to get him off the couch earlier - _in front of everyone_. It was only briefly mortifying, and he’s ninety percent sure Baekhyun recorded it, but then everyone’s attention was on the cake.

Jongin only wishes the day had stayed festive. Instead of enjoying cake and opening gifts for the baby, Jongin is now watching Kyungsoo and Chanyeol _arm wrestle_. His mom is standing beside him, her arm around his waist as Yifan holds onto the coffee table so it doesn’t wobble as Kyungsoo and Chanyeol try to take each other out. It started as an argument over who would be the godfather, and descended into a physical contest.

“You haven’t told them?” his mother whispers.

Jongin shakes his head. “Not yet.” Yifan and Jongin had decided, only days ago, to have Jongin’s parents be the baby’s godparents for now. They just haven’t gotten around to telling anyone yet.

“I’ve got money on Kyungsoo!” Jongin’s mom hollers, and suddenly, everyone is pulling out wallets.

“What are you doing?” Jongin whines.

“Oh come on,” she tells him, nudging his side. “It’s entertaining, and I’ve been cooped up at home with your father for too long. Let an old woman have some fun.”

 _Fun_ includes loud swearing, the coffee table creaking under the combined weight of Kyungsoo and Chanyeol, and finally, Chanyeol storming off to the bathroom to lock himself in after Kyungsoo wins. Jongin thinks the win wasn’t a surprise to anyone but Chanyeol.

Jongin finds himself sitting to eat cupcakes as his mother then challenges Kyungsoo. Bets are placed, the cheering commences, and because Kyungsoo is an equal opportunity kind of guy, he beats Jongin’s mother too.

“Congratulations!” Yifan announces. “You’ve won absolutely nothing. Time to move on to more important matters - gifts. Someone fetch Chanyeol from the bathroom for me.”

Jongin swats Yifan lightly on the butt on his way to take a seat. He attempts to sit on the floor, but Yifan catches him halfway and stands him back up.

“I don’t think so. You got yourself stuck down there two days ago.”

Jongin flushes with embarrassment, but gracefully allows Yifan to put him on the couch. He sinks into the cushion and immediately knows he’s going to need help to get up later. He’s so round, and he waddles when he walks, and it will be super nice when this kid is out.

The stack of presents for the baby far outnumbers the amount of people in attendance. Some of them are from relatives who live too far away - including Yifan’s mom. But the majority are from his closest friends.

Jongin breaks down in tears when he opens a box to find a printed out picture of a crib.

“They’ll deliver it on Tuesday,” Sehun says. “And they’ll put it together for you.”

Jongin can’t stand up to hug his best friend, but Yifan shoves Sehun over toward Jongin and he sits next to him, giving him a hug. Jongin hides his face in Sehun’s shoulder. “Thank you,” he sniffles.

Turns out it was a group plan. Each of his friends bought one piece of furniture - a matching set - and his mother bought two bedding sets to go with it.

“You guys didn’t have to do all this,” Yifan tells them.

“Of course we didn’t,” Chanyeol scoffs. “We _wanted_ to. Besides, this kid is practically going to be ours too. None of us are on the path to parenthood, so that means your little bundle is going to get spoiled _rotten_ ”

“By all of us,” Kyungsoo tacks on.

“Smothered with affection,” Baekhyun adds.

“Obnoxiously so,” Sehun concludes.

They all descend on Jongin and Yifan for a group hug. Jongin’s mom starts taking pictures.

Jongin’s heart feels so full it could burst.

 

“Please get out,” Jongin grumbles, poking the side of his belly.

“That’s not how that works,” Yifan unhelpfully supplies.

Jongin glowers at him. “Then find me something that _will_ work,” he huffs.

“I had to carry you off Sehun’s mini-trampoline earlier,” Yifan reminds him. “If the baby didn’t drop out from that, it’s not going to without being good and ready.”

“But what about me?” Jongin whines. He lets his arms fall to his sides. He’s propped against a mountain of pillows on their bed, and Yifan is sitting next to him, trying to read a bedtime story to the baby. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve been able to see my dick?”

“You don’t need to see your dick,” Yifan laughs. “I see it all the time and it’s just the same as it was three months ago.”

“How do _I_ know that?” Jongin counters. “You could just be saying that so I don’t panic.”

“Nothing’s wrong with your dick, Jongin,” Yifan deadpans. “Or with any other part of you.”

“Except my ribs.”

“Except your ribs.”

There’s a tiny baby foot - that doesn’t feel so tiny - wedged under one of Jongin’s ribs at almost all times now. It’s a constant ache. It takes him ages to get comfortable, but he usually can’t stay that way for long because either the baby moves, he has to pee, or he gets hungry. He left his job two weeks ago, so he knows part of this is just him being stir crazy.

Jongin is perpetually waiting for something to happen, and _nothing is happening_.

Yifan continues reading as Jongin tunes him out, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. He actually manages to fall asleep, but it’s not for long. It never is these days. If he’s still, it’s only a matter of minutes before the baby starts moving around.

Yifan helps Jongin roll off the bed, and then holds Jongin’s hand until he’s steady on his feet, Jongin’s other hand cradled under his belly. The short walk to the bathroom didn’t always feel like an arduous trek, but it does now. It’s too much effort to even put on pants, so he doesn’t anymore. Not even when his friends come over.

The only consequence thus far is Baekhyun offering to shave Jongin’s legs because, according to Baekhyun, they’d feel so silky smooth. The only reason Jongin had said no is because of the upkeep. He wasn’t about to have Baekhyun over every few days just to shave his legs. 

Jongin takes a little extra time in the bathroom, pausing to turn to his side and stare at how large his belly is. His due date is in three days, and he’s been feeling the signs, but nothing significant. He pets over his rounded belly, his irritation ebbing away. He’s already so in love with his baby. He just wants to hold his child in his arms. He’s been waiting for what feels like forever for this.

By the time he hobbles back to his room, Yifan is already asleep. Jongin decides to leave him be, stealing a few of the pillows to take with him into the living room. He’ll just watch some tv for a while until he’s too tired to wake up because of baby limbs being in places they shouldn’t be.

It’s after two in the morning when Jongin’s eyes finally drift shut and don’t open again.

It’s a little past five in the morning when Jongin wakes, sucking air in through his teeth at the pain that blossoms through him. He glances at the time. He’s gotten these contractions before, but never with any regularity. Still, he keeps an eye on the time and breathes through them until they eventually fade away.

Except these don’t fade. They get worse.

After an hour, Jongin decides it’s time to wake Yifan. It takes effort to stand, but the tricky part is keeping his legs moving through the pain. He holds his belly with both hands, waddling and breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth.

“Babe?” Jongin says, sitting on the edge of the bed. He reaches out, shaking Yifan’s arm. “Babe,” he repeats, a little louder.

Yifan’s eyes blink open and he rolls toward Jongin a little. “Hmm? What’s wrong?”

Jongin sees the way Yifan’s eyes flicker to the clock on his nightstand and back. “I need help putting on pants,” Jongin starts, suddenly grabbing onto Yifan’s arm when his next contraction hits. He clenches his teeth and lets out a soft groan. “Hospital,” Jongin rasps. “Baby.”

“Baby,” Yifan mumbles, sitting up. Then realization seems to dawn. “Baby!” he shouts.

Jongin doesn’t like when Yifan pulls away from him, even if he knows Yifan has to. He whines, falling back on the bed. Yifan scrambles to pull on clothes, managing to put his shirt on inside-out. Jongin doesn’t bother to tell him. He focuses on breathing, on trying to lift his hips enough for Yifan to slip his pants on.

They have all the stuff they need ready - a diaper bag filled with diapers, a few newborn sized outfits, burping blankets, clothes for Jongin, and other necessities. Yifan has a bag too, and he slings the both of them over his shoulder as he helps Jongin waddle out the door.

The last thing Yifan does before he drives them to the hospital is text the _expectant_ chat, letting everyone know at once that they’re heading to the hospital and Yifan will update them later. Jongin can’t wait for later.

 

When Jongin was seven, he remembers crashing into the bushes while trying to learn how to ride a bike. There were scratches up and down his arms and legs, and he cried until his mother ran over to make it all better. She’d cleaned them out, put a bandaid on the worst ones and let him run back out the door to try again.

When Jongin was twelve, he broke his arm jumping off the monkey bars because Sehun dared him to. His father had rushed him to the hospital and stayed at his side the entire time. Jongin doesn’t remember the pain much, but he does remember his dad and how he took care of him after.

His parents were there for him when he suffered through his first heartbreak, and got into his first car accident. His parents were there when Jongin needed them to be - as his biggest supporters, but also the ones who let him blaze his own path, guiding him when he needed direction.

As Jongin holds his son in his arms, he vows to be all these things. He’s going to be a protector, a guardian. And life is going to hurt, but he’ll be there to make it better. Life isn’t going to be easy. It’s going to be _hard_. Jongin is going to be there in any way his child needs. For the rest of his life.

Jongin watches the bundle in his arms move as his son yawns, attempting to stretch under his blanket. They swaddled him earlier so he’d stop scratching his face, but now the blanket is looser so he can move freely, little mittens on his hands with cat faces on them to match the hat covering his full head of hair. They were a gift from Yifan’s mom. He’d taken pictures and sent them to her, but she probably won’t get them until she gets off the plane.

Between his own mother and Yifan’s mother, Jongin is going to have all the help he needs at home for a while. He might even get a full night’s sleep, but the jury is still out on that one.

Jongin’s heart feels so full, and there’s a sense of contentment he’s never had before. He’d never made any plans to have a baby, but now that he’s here, Jongin can’t imagine not having him. He’s the purest, most perfect expression of love.

Yifan opens the door to the room slowly, and walks halfway inside. “Hey, the guys are here, but if you’re too tired -”

“They can come in,” Jongin says. “We’re fine.”

For the first time _ever_ , Jongin’s friends manage to walk into a room without making noise. They all have on identical curious looks as they gather on one side of the bed, staring down at the baby in Jongin’s arms.

“Dibs,” Sehun whispers. “I get to hold him first.”

Jongin laughs as he carefully passes his son to Sehun, Yifan hovering close. He lays back in his bed and lets out a soft sigh. He watches on fondly as everyone coos over his son, taking pictures and fawning over how small he is. Yifan eventually steps back, finally convinced they’re not going to drop him.

“You did so great,” Yifan murmurs, pressing a kiss to Jongin’s temple. “Thank you.”

Jongin feels the tears stinging his eyes even as he smiles. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too. Both of you. Always.”

**Author's Note:**

> *the other item on Sehun's Trophy Row is a garter he peeled off Kyungsoo's thigh with his teeth during a college party  
> **Sehun's has small placards by each item - the empty bottle of whisky is labelled "Chanyeol's Dignity"; the garter is labelled "Never Try This Sober"
> 
>  
> 
> I would like to give a HUGE thank you to the mods for giving me all the time I needed when real life reared up and stole all my writing time. I would also like to thank A for pushing me through this and giving me the confidence and assurance I needed to finish this piece. I really hope you enjoy it because it ran away with me in the best of ways.


End file.
